Who Would Have Thought?
by Hannya
Summary: An Almost Prequel to 'Not Quite A Blanket'. Harry, Draco, mudwrestling. But is it too good to be true? SLASH, if that's not already apparent from the last two sentences
1. Of course it's all his fault

Who Would Have Thought  
  
  
  
Hannya  
  
Rating: R for language and later Lemony goodness  
  
Pairing: DracoXHarry  
  
Disclaimer: I own nothing! NOTHING! However, if you sue me, feel free to take my new hell hound who has yet to understand the phrase 'paper trained' and actually attempted to eat my homework. I wish I was kidding. Puppies have sharp teeth and they aren't very particular about what they use them on. Be glad this story survived it's notebook phase to make it to typed.  
  
Warning: Slash, if the pairing hadn't already told you that. Draco's dirty mouth, basic lack of believable British slang, evil ending twist, and clichéd plot. That's all for now.I think.  
  
A/N: A stupid little tidbit that I stuck here while I finish the next chapter on 'Not Quite a Blanket'. Think of it as a kind of prequel.yeah..that's it.Of course, if I write Chapter Two, then it'd stand alone. Damn, now I'm confused again.  
  
CHAPTER ONE*  
  
  
  
That's it. Enough games. I think it's time for the both of us to grow up and stop playing our coy little schoolyard games.  
  
Which, of course, explains why I'm standing waist deep in a sink hole smack in the middle of the Forbidden Forrest attempting to rip out his luscious, if mud spattered, black locks.  
  
"Dammit, Malfoy!" the apple of my life sputters, cheap black frames hanging precariously from one ear as he tries to simultaneously disengage my hand and shove mud down my robe. Getting frisky, love?  
  
"Shut it, Potter! It's your fault we're stuck here!" I growl, I love growling at him. He always looks so shocked and I just want to slam him against a wall and.never mind. You probably don't need to hear that right now.  
  
But, actually, it is indeed what you're thinking. I want to dominate him, sink my teeth into that sweet spot between neck and shoulder, mark him, and hold him while his body cools from a bout of ruthless love play. Because, know it or not, the green-eyed mud-dripping nymph is mine. Mine.  
  
  
  
Possessive? Me? Nah.  
  
It really is his fault though. We'd been partnered in Potions (sometimes I think Snape just has a thing for slash) and Potter's lips were a little chapped. Just enough to bother him into constantly running that cute little pink tongue over them again and again and-  
  
I think I covered my extreme interest in his activities rather well until, of course, those surprisingly pearly whites came in to play, tugging on that poor abused bottom lip.  
  
Well, it could have bee worse; I could have spilled it on Snape. Hm.acid eaten Snape. That could have gotten ugly.uh, uglier. Anyway, lucky for all parties involved, our ill-fated potion found the table and Potter and I received detention for destroying school property.  
  
See? All his fault.  
  
Anyway, where was I again?  
  
Oh yes.  
  
"Me?! I'm not the one that destroyed Snape's solid stone table!" Details, details, details.  
  
"It's still your fault, " I mutter, abruptly giving up my taunting before I spill out the little insignificant part about my obsession with his stupid git self.  
  
But, being the stupid git he is, he persists. Covered in mud, absent- mindedly clinging to my robes from when he was trying to fill them with the slick mud, he blinks at me, glasses free (hanging off one ear, remember?) and demanded to know exactly how it being his fault was possible. Fine, Golden Boy, he wants to know what really happened, I'll damn well tell him.  
  
A wicked but rather self mocking smile is lighting my face, I can fell it, "Well, Potter, you were the one with chapped lips."  
  
Gorgeous green eyes blinked blankly. Wait for it, wait for it."What does that have to do with anything?" Dammit, do I need to draw him a freaking diagram!?  
  
I grit my teeth and attempt to ignore the fact that his robe was slipping off one shoulder and two buttons had fallen off in the shuffle. Any minute now, cheesy porn music would start and he'd get really suspicious. Oh well, might as well get the whole thing out in the open. "Let me make this simple enough for you to understand, Potty. You were sitting there, sucking your lips like a cheap whore, and I'm a hot-blooded teenage male. Conclusion? It's a good thing the table was the only casualty."  
  
I'm so brave; I should have been a fucking Gryffindor. I'd rather be fucking a Gryffindor, however, so I take a second to note Potter's face has turned bright pink and his mouth is gaping slightly in shock before tightening my grip on his arms and hair and dragging him hard against me. "Draco?" He manages to stutter out before I cover his mouth with mine and attempt to explain with my tongue what my words were obviously not managing.  
  
I've never actually kissed another male before although I've known I was bi since was eleven but I think we're doing pretty good since he's making those cute little helpless noise as I attempt to make a boy scout knot out of our tongues.  
  
Speaking of tongues, Potter tastes remarkably of .orange juice. Well, breakfast was just a few hours ago. Yum, citrusy. And an excellent source of vitamin C! I knew kissing Potter would be beneficial to my health.  
  
He breaks away, apparently needing air and I sigh, steeling myself for the inevitable outrage heterosexual virgin speech. You know the one, 'but we're both males!' or 'What are you doing!?!' and my personal favorite, 'Aarghhhh!'  
  
Half a minute and still no outrage. I look up, slightly anxious, and meet overjoyed green eyes. Damn, most people need muggle contacts to make their eyes that color.Forest or Emerald tinted or something like that.  
  
"Draco?" Oops, I'm starving blankly at him as he stands there grinning like an idiot.  
  
"Yes?" Brilliant answer, what was I saying about idiots.  
  
"Your father will kill you, or me, or us." He says simply, still smiling.  
  
I snort, trying to ignore the fact that we were still standing in a lover's clinch, knee deep in forest mud. "As if, Potter. He knows Voldie's going down, he just hasn't switched sides yet."  
  
Little drops flew as Harry shook his head, "No, I mean, because I'm a guy."  
  
"Oh that," wait until he hears this one, "He can't say anything, not with him and Snape and all." Desired effect achieved, Harry's slightly tanned skin is now attempting to match his eyes as the mental image of that scenario appears in his mind. Hm, better get his thoughts off it so we can get back to the kinky mud wrestling thing. "What about your family? What's left, I mean." Smooth.real smooth, Draco.  
  
It was Harry's turn to snort, "Probably be glad that I won't reproduce and create more freaks like me. Besides, one more summer and I don't have to even think about them anymore."  
  
Harry Potter? Bitter? Got to pry that story out of him later. "Okay, next question. What about your friends?"  
  
Good question and easily answered. "I can stand the freakled freak and his nerdy girlfriend if you can keep them from killing me." Wow, I didn't even call them Weasel and Mudblood! Either I was getting more creative or I was trying to be nicer about my love interest's compatriots. Hmm.The real question was which would Harry chose.  
  
The twinkle in those damn verdant eyes was all the warning I received before he threw his arms around my neck and gave me a fierce hug.or as fierce as a hug can get.  
  
"Hey, aren't you supposed to be mad at me for insulting your friends? Not that I'm complaining, of course. And isn't dating your evil Slytherin rival going to taint your pure heart or some shit like that" I managed, still stunned that I have my heart's desire safe in my grubby arms.  
  
This is great, though. Instead of outraged breeder, I've got enthusiastic boyfriend. And who says evil never wins?  
  
Oh sure, now he has the grace to look embarrassed as he mutters something under his breath. "Whoops, didn't quite catch that one, Golden Boy, " I gently mock.  
  
His face gets redder and, despite all known laws of color coordination, compliments his eyes even further, "I was kind of, um..."  
  
"Yes?" Wow, he barely blinks at being gay but this is humiliating him? Ya know, if I wasn't currently trying to get in his pants, this'd be great black mail.  
  
".supposed to be in Slytherin."  
  
Harry Potter? (Déjà vu) More Gryffindor than old Godric himself in Voldie's old house?! Well, his eyes were really green and he was a Parseltongue. I opened my mouth to make an off-color comment but he beat me to it, growling, although it came out more like an angry purr, and playfully tackled me. God, I love this boy! Unfortunately, we were still standing in the mud and with a rather undignified splash, were now lying in the mud.  
  
Struggling to my elbows, I wiped a glob of mud out of my eyes and attempted to scowl at the love of my life convincingly. The Boy who Lived was covered, and I mean covered, in mud. Glasses entirely gone and mouth open to gasp air as he surfaced from his attack.  
  
Smiling a fond smile that no one will ever see if I have things my way, I wiped the mud off a good portion of his face and carefully brought our muddy lips together. It went great until I attempted to get a better taste of my forest nymph and got the watered forest floor instead.  
  
He opened that gorgeous mouth to protest as well and, "BUZZZZZZZZZZZ"  
  
I sat bolt upright in bed, green and silver comforter sliding off unnoticed as I gaped incredulously at my alarm clock. No. Fucking. Way. I bit back a scream of frustration as the realization that, to the cruelty of my subconscious, Golden Boy was just as untouchable as he'd been yesterday.  
  
After a few minutes of pounding the shit out of an unfortunate feather pillow I'd calmed enough to think about things rationally. Okay, almost rationally. Maybe this was a sign telling me to make a move.and we did have detention that night for the Potions incident.  
  
I smirked. "Until tonight, mud nymph, until tonight."  
  
My little moment was ruined as a pillow flew over the top of the curtains surrounding my bed and hit me square on the head. "Snape told you about those mushrooms, Draco!"  
  
Attempting to smother a groan, I muttered a curse and dragged myself out of bed to go beat whichever smartass was accusing me of eating hallucinogenic fungi.again. Harry Potter I'd deal with later.  
  
  
  
TBC  
  
A/N: Okay, please don't kill me! This was going to be a one shot and then I got a great idea to make it a dream and.anyway, if you're not too pissed, review and tell me if I should continue, k? Thanks! Oh, I'll explain later how Draco knew all that stuff about Harry in his dream. But, really, this is mostly to tide over my reviewers from 'Not Quite A Blanket' until I can finish the lemon for chapter four. 


	2. Baaaad centaurs

Who Would Have Thought  
  
Hannya  
  
Rating: R for language and later Lemony goodness  
  
Pairing: DracoXHarry  
  
Disclaimer: After a rather pathetic attempt to steal the rights to Harry Potter and Co., I have returned in defeat, sadly stuck with simply writing the characters into freakish OOC roles and slashy situations. Bummer.  
  
Warning: Slash, if the pairing hadn't already told you that. Draco's dirty mouth, basic lack of believable British slang, voyeuristic centaurs..That's all for now.. I think.  
  
A/N: Alright, it's officially developed a mind of its own so here's the next chappie. No it doesn't make sense and yes I was stupid enough to type it anyways.  
  
Chapter Two  
  
Harry Potter, Boy Who Lived and the good guy butt monkey of the powers that be, woke with much arm flailing and a rather unmanly squeak. In fact, it was more the kind of squeak one gets when a mouse realizes that their nest is being used as a bed by a tiger. Or something.  
  
Like clockwork (Muggle, not wizard. No clue how those work) a sleepy voice made the journey through two sets of curtains and the distance between the beds to fight it's way through the blood pounding in the Gryffindor's ears. "Harry, mate, you alright?" After a few undecipherable vowel noises and the sound of someone trying to knock themselves unconscious with the thick wooden headboard of their bed, another voice joined in.  
  
"Just another Malfoy wet dream. Go back to sleep, Ron, " Seamus muttered drowsily even as a confirming if vague gurgling noise coming from the general vicinity of the boy wonder's bed.  
  
The redhead in questioned groaned and pulled a nearby pillow over his prominent ears, "Merlin, Harry! That's the third bloody time this week!"  
  
Wishing not for the first time that Voldemort would actually get around to finishing him off, Potter paused to wonder why in Muggle hell did it taste like he just ate dirt?  
  
************Meanwhile, in the forbidden forest**********  
  
"You got any fours?"  
  
"Go fish."  
  
Bane sighed loudly and made a resigned grab for the half deck of dog- eared playing cards sitting on the toadstool-er, card table. "So, you hear about that Potter kid and some hot blond hooking up in the down by the oaks tonight?"  
  
"No way! Is Venus bright tonight, or something?"  
  
"Nah, Ronan bribed some kids from Harry's dorm. And, after the dreams he talked about, this should be some show. Ronan's off trying to find the camera before then."  
  
"Sweet! I-" a sudden shuffling of leaves alerted the two leering centaurs of some large and ungainly creature entering their leafy rec room. Something not of the forest.  
  
In a flash, the cards were hidden in a nearby rotten stump and both creatures had assumed fitting unearthly all-knowing expressions.  
  
"Hagrid, you wished to speak to us?" Firenze ventured solemnly, smothering a very unprofessional giggle at the large man covered in leaves and twigs.  
  
The large groundskeeper shifted nervously, despite his relief at finding the two. "Well, the thing is, a couple of students have detention out here tonight and I was wondering if you could keep an eye on them. Just in case, you know."  
  
Two quadrapeds exchanged a 'look'. Bane trotted closer and gave the half-giant a comforting pat on the shoulder. "Of course. The forest is very dangerous at night."  
  
"Yes, we'll be glad to watch them- um, watch out for them." Relief was coming in waves off the reassured man so he completely missed the leers that the centaurs couldn't suppress any longer. In fact, half way into the leer, both horse-men-things were caught up in one of Hagrid near fatal hugs of gratitude and practically skipped back to his little hut of happiness.  
  
Bane and Firenze stared after him for a minute before snickering loudly, the larger of the two nodding to the other, "Come on, let's go help Ronan load the camera. I have a feeling this detention should be recorded for prosterity."  
  
***************************************8  
  
Night came too soon. Okay, actually it came at the exact same time it was supposed to but the two hormone-dazed young wizards scheduled to serve detention together were exactly thinking rationally. After all, if you tilted your head, squinted a little, and smoked something highly illegal, the forbidden forest could almost be described as romantic.  
  
Draco Malfoy, despite being a well-known Hogwarts Sex God, did not *do* romantic. So, of course, he decided that the only redeeming quality the great outdoors currently held was one green-eyed nervous looking Gryffindor. He'd been dreaming of this, literally, for quite a while and had finally come to the decision that denial was for idiots and that with all the phallic symbols prominent in the wizarding world, no one could actually blame him for liking blokes. The fact that the boy he was currently fancying was supposed to be his archrival was merely an insignificant detail when compared to how nice his arse looked in Quidditch robes.  
  
Now, all he needed to do was convince one Harry Potter of the exact same thing.  
  
Unfortunately, his raven-haired prey was still trying to reconcile the very excellent snogging of his dreams with the spoiled Slytherin at his side. He sighed, sure this was just fate's latest plot to drive him batty. "I hate my life."  
  
Silver eyes blinked once, taken back by the unexpected statement before their owner made a slightly blundering attempt at comfort. "Um, if it makes you feel better, I hate your life too."  
  
Harry paused, brushing away an irritating and possibly poisonous bit of plant life that had been attempting to poke out his eyes behind his glasses, and gave his companion a puzzled look. "No, actually, it doesn't but good try."  
  
Draco shrugged, waiting patiently while the forest continued to attack the Golden Boy. After all, Snape wasn't expecting them back until late and that left him plenty of good seduction time. A few minutes and several scratches later, the pair was back to trudging through the shaded woods in search of some rare herb that their Potions Professor was too cheap to buy in Knockturn Ally like everybody else. And, come to think of it, Harry looked rather delectable all annoyed and more messed up than usual, a small scratch decorating one high cheekbone, a souvenir from the formidable flora, surely. God, he just wanted to taste it, feel hot breath on his neck as he traced the mark with his tongue..  
  
The Gryffindor gulped a bit at the hungry look that had just replaced the slightly bored expression the young Malfoy seemed to wear permanently. He'd seen him eat in the Great Hall only hours ago so it couldn't be that. Plus, that face looked familiar, like he had seen it somewhere else. A memory from a dream..  
  
It was just bad luck that Harry's moment of poetic realization was ruined by a rather rough tree he'd backed into and that the thought running through the other boy's mind were about as poetic as a porn soundtrack. The pale Slytherin seemed to almost glow in the available moonlight, an imposing creature who was currently getting very comfortable in one Harry Potter's personal space. Both boys hearts sped up as they flashed back to the dreams of each other, remembered touches and they were leaning closer without even realizing it when-  
  
FLASH  
  
A brillant light drowned out the moon, the familiar sound of a camera snapping. Draco growled, annoyed at best, while his prey slipped from his arms and headed after what sounded like a centaur with a camera. He always knew those hairy beasts were perverts...  
  
TBC~  
  
I don't even know why I decided to write this but, oh well. *I* thought it was funny.  
  
Big hugs and Draco plushies to my beautiful inspiring wonderful reviewers who I don't actually have time to personally thank because I'm falling asleep. *yawns* TANKU! 


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